


Six Weeks

by cbris_writes



Category: Pitch Perfect (2012)
Genre: Anorexia, F/F, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-06
Updated: 2013-02-06
Packaged: 2017-11-28 08:54:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/672566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cbris_writes/pseuds/cbris_writes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had been six weeks since that night at semi-finals, since Beca screwed everything up. Six weeks since Beca smiled, laughed, or really felt anything at all. Trigger Warning: This story contains self-harm and hints at anorexia.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Six Weeks

Beca had barely crossed the threshold into her dorm when she gently peeled her jeans off her body and pulled on the pair of gym shorts that sat on the floor near her bed. She eased herself onto her bed, her sides burning as she clutched her water bottle to prevent herself from crying out from the pain. She felt as if she’d been hit by a train, although she was sure that even that would’ve felt better than the world of hurt she’d let herself live in for the past month and a half.

A month and a half, that’s how long it had been since she messed everything up at the semi-finals. Six weeks since she’d seen anyone besides her classmates and Kimmy Jin, not that they counted anyway. Forty-two days since she’d seen Chloe’s face, not like it didn’t already haunt her thoughts every day. No matter how hard she tried to shake it, the redhead’s shocked and hurt expression stuck inside the younger woman’s brain like a leech, a constant reminder of how she always manages to fuck up anything worthwhile.

In just six short weeks, Beca had transformed into a shell of what she used to be. Depression walked silently behind her wherever she went, always lurking close by in the shadows of her life. She didn’t mix anymore; she had no desire to put her headphones on and torture herself with songs that would only cause Chloe to creep back into her dreams. _Dreams_ , Beca chuckled bitterly at the thought. _More like nightmares._

In these dreams Chloe would forgive her, would help her become the old Beca again instead of remaining the ghost she had become. But each time Chloe held her hand out to grab Beca’s, reality would kick the deejay hard and wake her up, forcing her to remember that _she_ _ruined everything_ , that Chloe wasn’t here and hadn’t been for the last six weeks and nothing could change that.

Beca found that she could avoid all contact with her dad if she maintained perfect attendance in class and kept her grades afloat enough to deter suspicion. With nothing else to fill her time anymore, she did just that. She avoided his office, always taking the longer route if it meant passing by and potentially running into him. She never answered the door to her dorm room, and ninety-nine percent of the time the visitors were never for her anyways. Her phone had been dead for the last three weeks, having lost any reason to charge it seeing as the only person that texted her was Chloe, and the redhead hadn’t tried to contact her since that night six weeks ago.

When Chloe was in her life, Beca felt so vibrant. Before she had met the older girl, Beca was always just barely holding herself afloat. As soon as the two met, though, Beca felt as though she could swim happily forever, so long as Chloe was swimming with her. Now that she was gone, Beca was drowning and she couldn’t care enough to try and save herself. She had fallen so quickly that she wasn’t surprised when she didn’t cringe in displeasure when she accidentally cut her leg while shaving three weeks ago. Nor did she stop herself when she found the box cutter that she had used to unpack her belongings back in September, her forefinger running over the blade that sliced into the delicate skin with ease.

Marks began to litter her calves, the razor never running through the flesh on her arms in fear of someone noticing. Cuts on legs were easily hidden since Beca never wore anything but jeans to begin with. And if someone were to discover a cut by some bizarre chance, it could easily be dismissed as a shaving injury. She knew what she was doing to herself, she knew it wasn’t healthy, but it was the only way she could feel anything anymore and feeling pain was better than feeling nothing at all.

Beca sat up in her bed, her stomach churning angrily at her. She didn’t know when she had eaten last, she never knew anymore. She no longer found enough strength in herself to bother with food, simply surviving off the occasional banana or piece of toast Luke would force her to eat at the station whenever she looked especially pale. Her body resembled a bag of bones, her already small frame becoming impossibly more fragile. She had never understood how other girls who suffered from eating disorders could put themselves through such misery, but now she was too numb to care. In her eyes she wasn’t suffering from anorexia, she just couldn’t ever remember to eat is all.

Bringing the bottle to her lips, Beca downed the last of her water before pulling her sheets up to her neck, her body shivering profusely despite the fact it was the middle of spring and nearly 75 degrees in her dorm. Her eyes began to droop, her body tired even though she had slept twelve hours the night before. Just as she began to drift off to sleep, a light knock came from the door. Beca ignored the visitor at first, hoping they’d go away if she didn’t answer the door, but the knock came again, this time a little louder.

“Beca it’s me.” Her body froze as she realized whom the voice belonged to. Before she had a chance to react properly, Chloe opened the door and stepped inside. Beca stared silently at the taller girl, mentally willing herself to wake up from her nightmare.

“Hey,” Chloe smiled softly.

“Hi,” Beca mumbled back, realizing she was very much awake.

“You didn’t answer my texts.” A look of hurt flashed across Chloe’s face, and Beca kicked herself for not bothering to charge her damn phone.

“I kinda keep forgetting to charge my phone.” Beca’s eyes shifted to the floor, unable to hold her gaze steady with the redhead.

Chloe sat on the foot of her bed, her hand resting lightly on Beca’s blanket-covered ankle. “I’ve been worried about you, you know.”

“You shouldn’t be. I’m fine,” Beca replied, forcing a smile that caused her lips to crack slightly from underuse. She hadn’t smiled, genuinely or forced, in six weeks.

“Bullshit.”

Beca was caught off guard, having never heard the other woman utter a curse word for as long as they’d known each other, not that seven months was very long. Her fake smile dropped quickly; she knew there was no use in trying to lie her way through this one. Chloe could always see right through her no matter how high she put up her defenses.

“You have bags the size of quarters under your eyes, your face is whiter than your sheets, and your skin is practically hanging off your body,” she continued, moving her hand from Beca’s feet to right above her knee. A whimper escaped the younger girl’s mouth as Chloe pressed lightly into her thigh, unaware that a fresh cut graced the spot the other woman had coincidentally rested her hand. Chloe retracted her hand quickly, a confused look in her eyes as Beca bit her cheek to keep the tears stinging the corner of her eyes at bay.

“Are you hurt?” Chloe panicked, her hands moving to tug the sheets from Beca’s body. The smaller girl clutched desperately at the fabric, silently begging Chloe to drop the issue.

“Of course not. You just pressed too hard into a nerve.” _She’s studying pre-med, you idiot,_ Beca thought to herself. _Like hell she’ll buy that._

Just as she’d expected, Chloe didn’t believe a word Beca said. She forced the sheets out of Beca’s hands, pulling them away to reveal Beca’s exposed and heavily scarred legs. Chloe stood up quickly, a gasp escaping her before she brought her hands up to her face to cover her mouth.

Beca quickly pulled the sheets back over her body, her lips pressed tightly together as she stared firmly at the wall next to her. A single, hot tear rolled down her cheek as she sat in silence, too ashamed to speak. Chloe’s hands wrapped around her own as the older girl kneeled down next to the bed.

“Beca,” she pleaded. Beca didn’t move, her eyes still fixed on the wall.

“Please, Beca. Please listen to me.” Chloe’s hand cupped Beca’s cheek, forcing her to stare back into the blue eyes that pierced through her heart.

“You need help, Beca. You can’t keep doing this to yourself.”

Beca’s bottom lip trembled, the tears in her eyes beginning to betray her as they fell rapidly down her face.

“I never wanted any of this to happen, Chloe. I…I don’t know who I am anymore.”

Chloe wrapped her arms around Beca’s tiny frame as the girl fell completely apart for the first time in six weeks, forty-two days of unacknowledged emotion hitting her like a speeding train.

“I know baby, I know,” Chloe mumbled into Beca’s tangled hair, pressing soft kisses to the side of her head as she held on to the younger woman as if her life depended on it. Tomorrow morning she’d go with Beca to the hospital, tomorrow she’d help her get the proper help she needed. As for today, she was going to stay right next the fragile girl all night, she was going to be there for her like she should’ve been for the last six weeks. She’d be her rock, the lifejacket Beca so desperately needed.

As Beca’s heavy sobs began to subside, Chloe crawled into the bed next to her. Her arms wrapped around Beca’s tiny body as the brunette laid her head against Chloe’s shoulder, her breath evening out as she calmed herself.

Placing another kiss against Beca’s head, Chloe whispered, “Everything’s gonna be okay. I’m not going anywhere.” Beca felt the weight lift from her shoulders as she curled up tighter against Chloe’s body, believing every word the redhead said.

For the first time in six weeks, Beca knew she was going to be okay.


End file.
